In the Company of Owls
by Ace of All Trades
Summary: AU. While Artemis Crock walks the path of a shadow, Dick Grayson, instead of becoming Robin, becomes something less, yet so much more: a Talon. As the darkness falls, the daylight dies, and the Night of the Owl begins. Welcome to the Court of Owls.
1. From the Ashes

Disclaimer: _Young Justice_ belongs to Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti. I am simply taking what they give and twisting it for my own amusement.

**26 June 2007**

**Gotham Heights: Gotham City**

**2247 Hours**

"Please, please don't go!" Artemis begged. The young, eight year old girl sat on her bed, her legs dangling, clutching her teddy bear tightly to her chest.

Jade, her sister, had her back turned to Artemis and was busy stuffing clothing into her knapsack. At a first glance, one wouldn't be able to tell that they were sisters – Jade's ebony hair contrasted sharply with Artemis' blonde hair – except that both sisters had the same, grey eyes and slightly tanned skin, features they inherited from their mother, and a prominent, almost regal face.

"Sorry, Sis," Jade murmured. "Mom's not getting out of prison anytime soon, and I refuse to live in the past, just for our 'father'.

"But Dad, and you, and me…we need to keep this family from falling apart," Artemis tried again. Jade stopped packing, and slowly turned to look at Artemis. Artemis' eyes widened in hope. Jade stared at Artemis for a few seconds.

"Toothbrush! Duh, I knew I was forgetting something!" Jade crowed triumphantly. Jade returned from the bathroom and zipped up her backpack. "I think… that's… about it? Yep. I think I'm good."

"Dad'll come after you," Artemis said quietly. Artemis was going to say more, but was cut off when Jade loudly zipped up her bag. She pulled out dark gray army cap and snugly fit it on her head. After she pulled her hair through the gap in the back, she turned back to Artemis.

"Let him," She said confidently. "I'll disappear, like the Cheshire cat."

Jade grabbed her backpack and walked towards the door, the exit to their cramped room. Artemis hopped off the bed and followed.

Jade yanked open the door, and headed out the door. Artemis silently stared after her. Then, Jade made a mistake. She looked back.

There, in the doorway, still clutching her teddy bear, was her younger sister. _Her _younger sister. Her wide, grey eyes stared innocently back at her. She looked so small. Her lips were parted in confusion. She couldn't understand.

Her father started training Jade at the age of 10. Artemis was almost there. Artemis didn't know of the almost constant abuse of her father. Granted, their father would never lay a hand on "his girls", but he was very good at emotionally crippling them.

No matter what Jade did, it just wasn't good enough. She could just never quite get it right. It was devastating. The disappointment. How she felt after she let _him_ down. She remembered one specific memory that changed it all for her.

"_Baby girl," her father asked softly. "What is this?"_

_He held up a silver medal. The silver medal she had _earned _through endless hours of practice. In order to increase her stamina and strength, her father had entered her into a dance competition. Jade had never worked so hard in her life._

"_It's a medal, Daddy! I got it just for you!" Jade was so proud. Her father looked confused._

"_But I thought I saw your friend, Cissie King, get gold." Jade faltered._

"_I – I …" Jade began._

"_Did you know that silver is second?" Her father's voice was soft. Deadly. Jade nodded. "Do you know what second place winners are?"_

"_No…" Jade whispered. Tears started to well in her eyes._

"_Second place is the first loser, baby girl. Losing is unacceptable. I don't pay good money for you to lose."_

"_I'll do better! I swear Daddy, I'll do better!" Jade cried hysterically. Her father smiled proudly at her._

"_Good girl." He smiled and leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead. _

She couldn't let that happen to her sister. Jade sighed melodramatically. It caught Artemis off guard, who jumped and stared at her.

"You know, we Crock girls need to stick together." Artemis' eyes lit up.

"Really?" Artemis asked excitedly. But she hesitated. "But what about Mom?"

"What about her?" Jade asked dispassionately. "She made her choice. We need to make ours. This is a once in a lifetime offer. Will you come with me or not?"

Artemis looked at her, then back at their empty apartment. Finally, she turned resolutely and nodded.

"I'm coming with you."

"Good. Pack your bags. Let's go." Artemis ran back inside, and stuffed as much as she could in her bag.

"Where are we going?" Artemis asked curiously. She finished packing and walked over to Jade.

Jade smirked and grabbed her had.

They walked out of the apartment, never looking back.

**26 June 2007**

**The Bowery: Gotham City**

**2247 Hours**

Richard Grayson stared numbly outside the window. Rain poured outside, obscuring most of the dark, gloomy city. Buildings and people flashed by at such a blinding pace.

The roar of the rain was dulled, however, by the high-pitched whine of the police car sirens. A lone tear streaked down his face, and over his chapped lips.

He tucked his knees to his chest. The smooth green spandex only a slight comfort to the mourning boy.

He felt an _ache_. A huge void where his heart should have been.

He was alone now. Completely and utterly alone. He felt the darkness around him. Pressing into him. He clenched his eyes shut as hot tears spilled down his face.

_He flew through the air. It was exhilarating. The moment of weightlessness? There was nothing like that. He lived for this._

_He swung through the air, his arms outstretched. He grabbed onto his mother's arms as she swung him to his father._

_Now was the moment. They weren't called the Flying Graysons for nothing. The climax of their act. His father swings him back and forth, gaining momentum for him. _

_He's in the air once again. He tucks his body and arches backwards. One. Two. Three. Four! The trademark of the show. A quadruple flip!_

_The crowd roars! Flashing lights! The sound. It's addicting. He could get used to this: being the center of attention. _

_They meet back on the platform. The spotlight's on them. He looks back at his parents. They're holding hands. Her mother is grinning at him, while his father proudly clasps a hand on his shoulder. They're trust is absolute. They're love unquestioned. _

_They're always there for him. They always catch him. Mom and Dad. With them… he flies._

"_Ladies and Gentlemen… The FLYING GRAYSONS!" Mr. Haley proudly announces. Another roar fills the stadium. _

_He's so excited. Smiling from ear to ear. He bows too early in his excitement. _

_WHOOSH. Something whizzes just above his head._

_Spukkk. Spukk. Warm liquid splatters onto his cheek. His finger hesitatingly comes up to his cheek. It's a dark sanguine color. He doesn't understand._

_Two thuds behind him. He twirls around and stares in horror at the prone forms of his parents. Why'd they fall? _

_The bodies of a man and a woman lay spread out before them. The woman's eyes wide, unblinking, dull, the man sprawled out on the wooden platform. _

_His father and his mother._

_Blood slowly spread from the back of their heads. It continued to trickle and settle around him. The dark red liquid's coppery scent pervaded the air. He wanted to vomit, but he could not move, too horrified to do anything but stare at his parents. _

_There's screaming all around him. People rush to flee the tent. _

_He's dimly aware of officers gently grabbing him. They place him into a police car and speed away from the scene. He doesn't care. _

Just the thought alone of his parents… their smile, their loving words, gestures, even their smell. Gone. A small whimper escaped his throat. It hurt. His throat was already raw from him screaming.

"I'm sorry, son," one of the policemen murmured. Richard can only nod.

The squad car deactivated its sirens. Silence. Rain continued to patter. The car stopped suddenly, shocking Richard out of his memories.

The door to his side of the car is opened and Richard is roughly yanked out of the car. With a pained yelp, he is slammed against the chipped brick wall. The cold rain drops slide down the side of his face, leaving cold wet trails. The back of his head smacks against the wall.

He gasps as the policeman throws him onto the cold ground. A boot was placed on his chest and pressed down.

Richard panicked as he tried to claw his way out of the blackness. He could hear the rasping gasp of his own breath and felt like something was sitting on his chest, unwilling to let him breathe properly.

After a few seconds, he opens his eyes. He looks up, blinking his eyes uncomprehendingly against the big flat droplets. The barest of whimpers emerged from his throat as he stared at the cruel face of the police officer.

"You got lucky, kid." The policeman with his boot snarled. His partner looked uneasily at the situation.

"Hey, Mickey, do we have – …"

"Yes! We have to. Either this kid dies, or we die. Which one would you rather be, dead or alive?"

"I know. It's just that… I've got a bad feeling about this." An owl hooted in the distance.

"Shut up! Let me handle it then. Hell, you can turn around for all I care." The cop turned back to Richard. "Couldn't kill you in the car. Too much blood. If we fired a shot, it would be too loud. And I would have to file a report on what I did with that shot. So I guess I'll have to use this knife."

Richard heard the twang of a knife being drawn and tried to force himself to move, to escape, to at least fight back, but his body wouldn't cooperate with him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he hoped the blow would be quick. _Mother, Father, I'm coming. _

A shadow dropped from the building into the alley, landing as silently as a cat.

The other policeman dropped suddenly. A loud splash accompanying the body as it hit the concrete.

"Wha?" Mickey grunted. He turned around… and dropped as another shadow leapt on him. From the darkness emerged the first man. Black armor covered his body. His face was completely covered with a mask.

"Get the boy out of here. I'll take care of this one. See if he knows anything. I'll catch up to you in a second." The other man nods.

The man holding Richard roughly scooped him over his shoulders and carried him out of site. Richard felt dizzy. The world was spinning, and his voice just wouldn't cooperate with him when he tried to call out for help. He finally gave up and succumbed to the darkness.

Back at the alleyway, two gunshots rang out.

Then silence.

**Wonder Tower: Gotham City**

**A few hours later…**

Wonder Tower was considered the East Coast's answer to Seattle's Space Needle. It was the tallest and most distinct building in Gotham. Unlike the other skyscrapers of Gotham, Wonder Tower stood over 1,000 feet tall, and had the distinctive bulbous top that supposedly had a 360 degree view of the entire city of Gotham. Wonder Tower had to have been worth at least several billion dollars alone.

Of course, none of that mattered to Richard Grayson. His eyes fluttered open.

Richard felt weird all over. He didn't feel too good. He was shivering, yet his entire body was on fire. He must be sick. Or dreaming. Maybe this was a nightmare, and he would see his parents again.

He stood up on legs shaking with fatigue and fear. He looked around with wide, scared eyes.

As he looked to his right, Richard stared in awe outside the window. Eyes, bright with wonder, Richard slowly stumbled to the edge of the window.

The entirety of Gotham City was spread out before him. Instead of seeing stars, bright neon and electronic billboards brighten the night sky so not even a twinkling of a star could show its ethereal light down on him. The thousands of moving cars looked like fireflies dancing on the ground.

The electric symphony from shopkeepers' windows hit the river with the intensity of ten thousand full moons and bounced, bounced, bounced, all the way to the windowsill up high in the sky. A blimp lazily floated by, its bulbous shape reflecting the bright lights.

It seemed to stretch as far as the eye can see, a pulsating, entity of its own. The jagged outlines of skyscrapers cut into the sky. So full of _life_.

"Amazing, isn't it?" a cold, calm voice called out from nowhere. Richard suppressed his body's urge to turn around. He didn't move a muscle. To turn would be a show of guilt. He learned that from the multiple times he was caught nabbing an extra cookie from the circus' pantry. Being guilty got him in trouble. He had a feeling that it was doubly so for this place.

He kept stock still. Out of the shadows, a man in an expensive suit emerged. From the lighting, any facial features were concealed by the shadows. Only a strong lower jaw with lips curled up in a smirk were seen.

"Well?" his tone was silky smooth, but with a deadly undertone. Richard would be a fool not to answer.

He nodded his head.

"Yes. Gotham City. The city that never sleeps. The East Coast Shanghai. It's a beautiful city. Full of life and innovation," The man murmured. His tone became deadlier. "But it is so, so ugly. And corrupt. Look beyond its surface, and you'll see filth, scum, and a God-forsaken hell-hole. You yourself have experience this first hand, have you not?"

Richard nodded again. A pang in his chest as he was reminded of his parents.

"John and Mary Grayson were your parents, were they not?"

Richard nodded again. Tears began welling, blurring his vision.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. Such a shame for such talent to be brutally…extinguished." The man's voice held no trace of sympathy or concern. Just cold and dispassionate.

The man suddenly walked towards him with frightening speed. He could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck. Richard shivered.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Richard." A hand was placed on his shoulder. Richard began shaking in earnest.

"The men that killed your family were monsters." Richard stiffened. "They were going to do horrible things to your parents, if we hadn't stopped one of their plans. They settled for the cowardly way out."

Richard started seeing a red haze, thinking about those monsters that killed his family.

"Do you know how to put a stop to these monsters?"

"No."

"Monsters and cowards use fear to win. We use fear too. Are you afraid, Richard?"

Richard said nothing. The hand tightened on his shoulder, making him wince.

"I asked," the man said in a deadly quiet voice. "Are you afraid?"

Tears overflowed and oozed down Richard's face. A strangled sob escaped his throat.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why are you afraid?"

"You're going to hurt me." He could see in the reflection as the man nodded slowly. He removed his hand.

"Do you know which type of people kill monsters? The people who never stop. Who never yield. Who use fear."

"I don't understand." All this big thinking was starting to hurt his head. "What's the difference? They use fear and you use fear, how are you different?"

"Fear. It's what sets us apart from them. The difference is we push forward, regardless of our fear. We master fear. It yields to us. Isn't that what you want: to control your fear, instead of letting it control you?"

Richard stared outside. He thought of his parents and those policemen, and the person who shot his family. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. The more this man's words started to make sense. He didn't want to be afraid anymore.

The man knelt down again.

"So, Richard, will you yield? Or will you join us?"

Richard slowly turned around and met the man's eyes. "I want to join you."

The man smiled. The first true smile he showed.

"Good. Welcome to the Court of Owls, Mr. Grayson."


	2. Rendezvous with the Devil

Disclaimer: _Young Justice_ belongs to Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti. I am simply taking what they give and twisting it for my own amusement.

Hey guys! Yeah… so my originally planned break of a month ended up lengthening to about a year. Thanks for the great support and feedback you guys have given me. Totally whelmed.

**Chapter 2: Rendezvous with the Devil **

**3 years later…**

**13 May 2010**

**Infinity Island**

**1200 Hours**

Artemis Crock confidently strode down the aisle. On either side, her sisters saluted her as she passed. Their gleaming swords held upright, honoring her.

Those many years ago, Jade had taken them both South. The trip had been long and exhausting – almost a year. Many times, the two girls were so poor, they could not eat. However, their perseverance was rewarded when they finally made it to the Gulf of Mexico… where they were greeted by the legendary Talia Al Ghul.

The beautiful blonde welcomed them with open arms.

Much to Artemis and Jade's dismay, both were separated, each destined to fulfill different roles. While Jade was to become an assassin, Artemis was selected by Talia to become a Valkyrie. The Valkyries were Talia's special guards, hand-picked, who were under her direct command

For the next two years, Talia personally trained Artemis and her sisters, in not only combat, but other specialties as well. Some of the skills she learned were pick pocketing, evasion, blending, stalking, tracking, and hunting. She was even taught the proper manners and etiquette of a lady in a high-functioning society.

Operating from Infinity Island and several of the League of Shadow's hideouts, Artemis and her fellow sisters were often sent on contract missions all over the world to improve their skills, gain first-hand combat experience, and further the League's agenda.

In one such mission, Artemis had disguised herself as a simple flower girl and handed out several flowers coated in poison to local gang enforcers and warlords. Needless to say, they never were heard from or bothered anyone ever again.

Rarely, Talia would often select a team to assist her on whatever mission she was tasked to do by her father. Her band of apprentices had numerous skills she would call them for. They could join her as a group of bodyguards or infiltrating areas beforehand allowing Talia quick entrance to wherever she needed to go. They could also distract guards by stealing from them, flirting with them, or inciting riots. They also could set up ambushes and snipe targets from afar before entering the fray.

And now… she was finally ready to become a true Valkyrie.

Valkyries operated alone or in pairs, and often complete assignments given directly from Talia, or Ra's Al Ghul himself. They were perhaps one of the League of Shadow's deadliest assets.

Artemis stopped in front of Talia Al Ghul. The attractive blonde assassin smiled proudly at Artemis.

"You have proven yourself worthy. Today, commit to uphold the pillars of our Creed."

Artemis dropped to one knee. Artemis bowed her head.

"I will, Milady."

"For every flame that burns…" Talia began.

"… There is a shadow cast." Artemis finished.

"While many shun the dark…"

"… We embrace it for the darkness is our weapon."

"We are the League of Shadows." The entire room chorused.

"Rise, Artemis Crock."

**Two years later…**

**13 September 2012**

**St. Alfred the Great Middle Academy, Gotham City**

**1500 Hours**

3:00 came, and the flood of people poured onto the sidewalks and streets. The familiar cacophony of honking horns and street vendors' cries filled the air.

Cars zipped by. A blur of hurrying bodies rushed past a small boy. No one paid any attention to him. Not that he cared.

Kestrel, adorned in a school uniform, leaned casually against the fence. To the average person, he looked just like a little school boy. He felt the cool metal of a blade concealed in his right sleeve. The only thing that mattered was ensuring that his blade was true. This wasn't the first time he had been sent out onto the streets.

It had been four years since that fateful day. The day that his entire world was forever changed. The day he joined the Court of Owls.

The mysterious man, who took him under his wing, was simply referred to as "Templar". Templar was the head of their order.

Kestrel who was leaning against the fence was not the same person from five years ago. That day, Richard died, and Kestrel was born. While he still retained his youthful, boyish appearance, his body was leaner, rangier: a deadly weapon.

His mind too had matured. He saw things as they were, and then some. Thirteen years old and Richard had the body of an eighteen-year-old Olympic Athlete, and a mind equal of any college-educated honors graduate.

He was educated.

"We have no use for mindless drones. Your mind is your most powerful weapon. The body will fail long before the mind," Templar had informed him.

Before Richard could even begin training to become a Talon, Templar had put him under a strict educational curriculum. He was placed under the tutelage of an elderly gentleman that the rest of the order called "Mentori". Richard's education under the Mentori was vast and extensive. He was taught everything, from basic reading and writing, to more complex organic chemistry and advanced algebra.

Richard was given literature. He had started easy, with books such as _The Art of War, _and _War and Peace,_ and steadily progressed until Richard saw not just black and white in life, but gray. A lot of gray. As Wilde aptly said, "The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

He held no illusions as to the type of work he did. The methods that his brothers and he employ are brutal and unforgiving. They accept that, for they are the shadows that stand ready to visit violence and exact vengeance upon the corrupt and evil. All members of the Court stand by the motto, "_Extremum Medium Justificatis"_ - The ends justify the means.

When he became the youngest member to ever achieve the rank of Talon, he was also given a new name to signify the birth of a new person. He chose Kestrel, a bird of prey. Fitting.

The boy who had cried and screamed his voice out five years ago was gone, buried deeply within, never to be seen again. "I am a Talon. I am Kestrel," he whispered, a feral smile on his face as he stalked his current prey.

His prey was a politician. He had followed his prey for a week now, and had learned that he had shadier deals with gangs and dealers.

The politician's name was Alexander Carmine, a small time lawyer who struck it big. A closer inspection of his income revealed that the local gangs were bribing him. He received exorbitant sums of money, and in return, he turned a blind eye to their operations. The crime rate in those certain areas had risen exponentially, and Carmine was to blame.

All big pictures are made of smaller ones. The Court needed to insert one of their agents into the political playing field, one who was far more sympathetic to the Court. The Court took issue with this politician's work. And Kestrel was meant to end it. His smaller mission would supplement the Court's over-arching goals.

He already knew when and where this man would be. Every day at 3:10pm, the politician would come and pick up his daughter from her school. He thinks he is safe.

Kestrel had been patrolling up and down this particular section of Gotham for the past few days, familiarizing him with the layout, in case his assassination attempt did not go as planned. Of course, he wasn't the only agent of the Court. The Court had people everywhere. These agents ranged from simple street-level informants, to the police deputy chief.

Kestrel glanced at his watch. 3:08. Sucking in a quick breath, he let it out slowly and began to walk towards the entrance of the academy. His left hand fingered the blade. It was time.

The school bell ran, signifying the end of the school day.

Kestrel steadily quickened his pace until he was in a dead run. His cold eyes remained focused on his target. To any other passerby, he was simply a kid excited to leave school. Loosening his grip on the blade, he let it slide down, and grasped the handle. He joined a throng of kids as they rushed out of the gated school.

There he is.

He suddenly swerved across his target and raked his right hand across the politician's throat. A fountain of blood erupted from the man's throat, and splattered onto his fingers and the sleeve of his dark jacket. He continued his run, never once stopping to look back.

The man collapsed to the ground, clawing at his throat as his heart beat more of his blood onto the concrete. A few seconds later, he fell deathly still… dead. The horrified screams of the children and those around him cut through the city's din. It was music to his ears.

Kestrel allowed the feral smile on his lips to grow just a hint wider as he turned down several streets and disappeared deeper into Gotham.

**13 September 2012**

_**Unknown Location**_

**1800 Hours**

"Templar, welcome. It isn't every day the esteemed _Maestro_ of the Court of Owls pays me a visit. To what do I owe the pleasure? Perhaps you are here to finally accept my previous offer?"

The person who spoke was a tall man with albino white skin, intense, dark-green eyes that were either the eyes of a genius or a madman, with a mesmerizing, evil charisma, and dark hair with grey streaks on them. The Demon Head himself, Ra's Al Ghul.

"No. You already know my answer," Templar replied tartly. The head of the Court of Owls was dressed smartly with an expensive suit, making him look more like a billionaire than the head of a secret organization.

"I fail to see where this stubbornness of your will get you anywhere. I offer you far more than what I will receive in return. Most men would kill to be in your position," Ra's sighed.

"I'm not most men," Templar replied. Ra's chuckled. It started small, before his chuckle became full out laughter.

"You are correct, Templar. So, if you are not here to accept my offer, I assume you are here to fight me?" Ra's asked curiously.

"Why does everybody think I'm always looking to start violence?" Templar asked exasperatedly.

"Because you always start violence." Ra's stated flatly. "There are rumors – I know the truth – that you are not even human. That you move like an angel of death, carrying fury on your wings and leaving death in your wake. Is that not an apt description of you, Templar?"

"Yes," Templar admitted. "Except the angel part. I'm more of an owl."

"Then you can understand my curiosity. Wherever you go, death has a habit of following."

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have come here alone. And in a suit. I have a different offer to make you. One I don't think you can refuse." Templar paused to think for a second. "But it will involve death. Lots of it." Ra's smirked.

"What do you want to discuss?"

"Our shared goal."

"And what would that be?"

"I'm sure you are aware of certain… disturbances in the balance of things?" Ra's nodded.

"If you are referring to the so called "League of Villains", the Justice League has that situation 'under control'."

"We both know they're not the real threat."

"Yes. My agents have been reporting some peculiar findings."

"A storm is coming, Ra's. With that in mind, it's only logical that we should combine our resources."

"Our resources?" the Ra's asked. "I have manpower, weapons, and money. What do you have?"

"I have more money, logistics, the might of the Talons, global influence, and a very, very, large intelligence network," Templar replied with a grin. "Interested?"

"Very."

**Authors Note:**

**Oooh, tish just got real. Two powerful secret organizations joining together? What could go wrong? Hehehehehe.**

**These chapters have been kind of short, only because there's not too much going on yet. Once we get into the plot, expect long chapters. Like 5k plus words. Maybe. **

**Oh anyone get the title? Meeting with the devil? Get it? Cuz the guy dies (going to meet with the devil) and Templar meets with Ra's (a literal devil/ demon). Oh man, I crack myself up. No? Okay, never mind…**

**Think of the Valkyries and Artemis as Talia's guard from Arkham City. They are such cool adversaries. **

**** Templar has no affiliation with the Templars. It's just a name.**


	3. Proving Grounds

Hey guys, once again, thanks for your amazing support and feedback. I still read all of them. Multiple times. Oh yeah… I forgot to mention: this story and plot was inspired by justyce15's story, Tale of Assassins. You guys should take a look.

To Fofo amr: if you search up Talia Al Ghul from Arkham City, you'll see that's she's blonde-ish.

To RJG Lover/ random kitty: I had plans to restart Young JUSTAS… but I'm kinda lazy. The general plot's done… it's all just a matter of motivation. And right now, I'm kinda focusing on Owls. But there is a chance it might start up again.

The League of Shadows will be heavily influenced/inspired by the Assassin Order from Assassin's Creed.

**Chapter 3: Proving Grounds**

**20 June, 2013**

**Madrid Barajas Airport, Madrid, Spain**

**1430 Hours**

"Welcome to Madrid! Have a good day, and thank you for flying Queen Airlines!"

Artemis shifted uneasily as she exited the airplane and entered the bustling airport. She hated wearing civilian clothing.

_Women these days don't wear enough clothing_ Artemis griped. _Look at this! My jeans are tighter than a… never mind. Girl fashion keeps getting tighter and tighter._

It wasn't that she hated wearing "normal" clothing; it's just that they were impractical, especially when it came to potentially hunting down a target and assassinating them. She much preferred her assassin garb. It at least had multiple pouches and sleeves for her weapons. She could only care a small pocket knife! Of course she knew all 104 ways to incapacitate someone without a weapon and at least 24 with her knife… but she liked to keep her options open.

_A girl likes her options_, she thought wryly, especially with all the unknowns of this assignment.

She surreptitiously glanced around her surroundings. Urban environments were the busiest. Easy to blend in, but, that went the same way for any enemy. Airports especially were notorious for their hustle and bustle. People always coming, people always going. The constant frenetic movement of cities and airports unnerved her. Not that she would ever say it aloud.

She was supposed to be meeting someone. She didn't know who, though.

Talia had requested Artemis' presence and simply told her that a target of opportunity had arisen. They were working in tandem with another group.

_That_ had peeked Artemis' curiosity. The League of Shadows rarely worked with any other organizations. After all, _very_ few organizations existed that were of the same caliber as the Shadows. Only top tier groups worked with the Shadows. After all, they had a near perfect success rate on missions.

She was simply told that her partner would meet her once she landed. Still no one.

Artemis didn't like this. Not one bit. She was basically going in blind. No information. No target. Just a person to meet, who she was starting to think would never show up.

However, she turned to her left, and immediately saw her contact. It was a boy, dressed in simple jeans, with a green hoodie underneath a black jacket. His facial features were concealed with dark, tinted sunglasses, with short black hair left unkempt, hanging over his forehead. Overall, he looked like a normal boy. So how did she figure out it was her contact? It wasn't like her contact was holding a "Welcome to Spain, Artemis!" sign.

No.

It was the way the boy carried himself. Confident. Powerful. Dominating. The boy wasn't simply walking. He stalked. Like a predator. Alluring and intimidating in a single form. Artemis shivered.

"Artemis Crock." It wasn't a question. Artemis nodded.

"And you are…?"

"Kestrel," the boy replied curtly. He started walking. Artemis hastily shouldered her bag and walked after him.

Kestrel seemed to glide through the crowd. Despite the near sea of bodies, Kestrel always seemed to find a hole to slip into. A hole that always closed when Artemis tried to follow. She could easily follow if it wasn't for her large backpack containing most of her equipment.

Her large bag consistently knocked into other people, earning her dirty looks and several curses. Not that she cared.

After a while, Kestrel turned back to her.

"Pick up the pace, please."

"Why don't _you_ try walking through a crowd with this bag?" Artemis griped.

He ignored her and simply continued walking.

**30 Minutes Later…..**

The outskirts of Madrid flashed by. One of their assets was a taxi driver, and was currently driving them to their objective.

In the back of the taxi, Kestrel sheathed a six-inch stiletto in his holster underneath his jacket. She caught sight of the owl head design on the hilt of the blade.

"Court of Owls?" Artemis guessed. She had heard whispers from her fellow Valkyries about fierce assassins. They were never seen. Their kills perfect, as if a ghost had committed the murder.

She herself had witnessed one of their kills. The victim was put down with extreme brutality. The work of a professional killer.

Kestrel glanced at her.

"Yes. You're well-informed." Artemis rolled her eyes.

"We're the League of Shadows."

The cab once again lapsed into silence.

"What's your name?"

"Kestrel."

"No. I know that. Kestrel's not your real name." Artemis said. Kestrel pulled out two pistols: a revolver and a Sig Sauer P228, and handed the revolver to her.

"Yes."

"What's your real name?"

"Talons use aliases, each individual to the Talon."

"That didn't answer my question."

"I know." Artemis huffed. Kestrel pulled the slide of his pistol back and checked the interior, before hitting the release with a satisfying click.

"You're the first Talon I've had to work with," Artemis said. "So I have to ask: are all of you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Aggravating," Artemis groaned. "I feel like I'm talking to a kindergartener…"

Silence.

"… Or a wall. You don't like people much, do you?"

"_I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me that trouble of liking them._"

"Jane Austen, seriously?"

"Yes."

"Ah, a romantic type, eh? Cute." Artemis teased.

Kestrel ignored her and checked his watch.

"We're one minute out." He reached into his jacket and unfolded a piece of paper.

"Our target is a Spanish gangster named Carlos Reyes. Recently, a new type of drug has been distributed on the streets, with Reyes identified as the broker. Reyes makes most of his money trafficking young children and selling illegal weapons. Recently, he's been using his black-market connections to monopolize the drug trade here in Barcelona."

Artemis skimmed over the rest of the dossier.

"We'll bypass his usual security when he is operating in the city, and hit him directly at his villa. Solid plan," Artemis murmured. "Light security detail, element of surprise, and away from any help."

Kestrel nodded. "Affirmative. I'll take Reyes. His wife's expendable."

**30 seconds later…**

Artemis yanked her blade out of the skull of the last guard. Too easy. Getting into the villa had been easy. Silently neutralizing the rest of the people? Even easier. All that was left was Reyes and his wife, both of whom were in this last room. Easy.

"Clear," Artemis whispered. Kestrel pulled out his sidearm and approached the door.

_One._

_Two. _

_Three._

Kestrel kicked open the door and fired twice. Mr. Reyes dropped as both his knee caps suddenly had holes in them. Kestrel moved towards the downed couple, kicking away the sidearm the man was desperately crawling towards. They were reaching for each other desperately.

Kestrel kneeled and wrapped one arm around the man's throat and pulled him up into a kneeling position with the muzzle of the Sig Sauer against the back of his skull. He screamed in pain.

Next to them Artemis grabbed the woman and sat her on her heels. In view of both Mister and Misses Reyes she brandished the revolver. The frame snapped open and the six .357 magnum bullets were jettisoned into the air.

Artemis caught them all with a swipe of her hand and placed a single bullet into the chamber.

"Ever play Russian roulette?" Kestrel asked lowly. "One in six is your death. The odds aren't that bad, but they get worse the longer you play." Artemis grinned brightly and gave the cylinder of the weapon a spin. She flicked her wrist and the weapon snapped shut. She pulled the hammer back and pressed the muzzle against the woman's head.

"Por qué haces esto?" The man yelled.

"English. I know you speak it," Kestrel hissed.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want? Please," the man begged.

"Wrong thing to say." Kestrel nodded at Artemis, who pulled the trigger.

"No!" Reyes raged. His wife was sobbing, tears flowing down her face.

_Click_.

"Try again," Kestrel said. The man surged against Kestrel's iron grip.

"No! Please. What do you want?" Reyes asked, defeated.

"Your drugs. A large shipment is about to be sold. Where is it?" Reyes hesitated. Artemis cocked the revolver again.

"Santa Prisca! They're being sold in Santa Prisca! Please! I just handle the logistics! It's Bane! Bane is the main overseer of our operations. He's the real muscle behind this! I don't know where he is. Please. He comes and goes as he pleases. We have several other distribution sites in Spain! You can check on my laptop! You have to believe me."

Kestrel knelt down and looked at Reyes. He patted the man's shoulder, who flinched in response.

"I believe you," Kestrel said gently. "But it won't save your wife. Or you."

**22 June, 2013**

**Santa Prisca**

**2008 Hours**

The stars shone brightly over the unpolluted skies. A large, pale moon cast its dull light upon the ground, projecting long, dark shadows across the ground. The warm water of the Caribbean Sea was calm and still.

Atop a half submerged log, a lizard sat in contented silence, enjoying the warm night. Crickets hiding in the long grass creating the same, repetitive hollow chirping. Fireflies danced in the air, glowing, just for an instant, before disappearing into the night once more.

A disturbance disrupted the peaceful scene. The lizard fled into the water, and the crickets fell silent. A moment later, a pair of shadows flitted over the still water, temporarily blocking out the moon.

Artemis sighed in contentment as she approached the compound. She was finally back in her element.

Her suit consisted of a modified version of the traditional gi worn by many of the League. However, the lower part of her ensemble was layered with the back of the robes trailing down the front. Around the waist was a sash with pouches attached to a belt, holding her smoke bombs, knifes, and poisons. Each of her wrists had leather bracers with three throwing knives sheathed on it. Her sword and small quiver were attached to her back, while her collapsible compound bow was secured and holstered on her left thigh.

An angled hood concealed the upper part of her face, while her blonde hair was braided and left to hang from one side.

She looked up to see her partner, Kestrel, perched on a branch.

He wore a black, armored suit that hugged his lean frame. A series of small, light plates overlapped each other in certain, vital areas: he had light plating protecting his shoulders, thighs, knees, and chest. Attached on various hard points on his thigh and chest armor were holsters for throwing knives. A pair of short swords was also attached on his back. On the back of his hip was a sidearm. His bracers were very similar to Artemis', except his right one was larger than the left. This was due to the fact that the right bracer contained a wrist-dart launcher, capable of launching a small taser-dart up to 40 feet. However, you wouldn't be able to see it, as it was covered by a feathered cape draped over and around Kestrel's right arm and shoulder.

Medium length onyx hair hung over his mask. His mask was a white, almost porcelain in the shape of an owl that covered only the front of his face. His ears and the back of his head could still be seen. A small indent was the nose or beak, and two ovals were the eyes. However, the eyes had a dark lens over them, concealing his eye color. The mask was creepy. Artemis guessed that was the point, but still.

"Target in sight," Kestrel's disembodied voice whispered through the darkness.

_His mask must have a voice modulator._ Artemis thought. She raised her binoculars to her eyes. The sickly green hues of night-vision illuminated the dark night.

The large complex leapt into focus. It was a warehouse with a series of smaller buildings surrounding the main building. She could see several men patrolling the complex.

"I count six, no, seven guards patrolling the exterior." Kestrel nodded.

"Simple bag and tag op," Kestrel said. "Confirm the presence of the new super-drug, get out. Leave the heavy lifting to the Justice League."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Artemis grinned.

A flutter of wings and an owl's screech echo in the air. Kestrel's nowhere to be seen.

Artemis sighs, before melding into the shadows, and taking off towards the compound.

/

"Around 40 men involved in the operation," Artemis observed. "Most are helping with the packing and manufacturing of the drug. This is bigger than we expected."

Kestrel nodded. "There are several terminals over there. I'm going to see if I can find anything about this drug. Keep an eye out for anything."

With that, Kestrel leapt of the rafters.

"There he goes again," Artemis muttered. "Not much of a team player, is he?"

Several minutes later, Artemis' earpiece crackled to life.

"Kestrel here. It seems we stumbled upon the production of a new drug, Kobra-Venom. It seems to act as a steroid and muscle growth catalyst…"

"…Head's up," Artemis interrupted. "New contact here. Uploading visuals now."

Artemis tapped the small recording camera attached to her. The feed would upload to a small hand-held device each of them possessed.

A man entered the compound. Her breath caught her breath as she took in the short blond hair and the armored hockey-mask. Several armed mercenaries flanked the man.

"Bane," the man greeted.

"Neptune." Bane returned. Bane was a massive man. He was easily 6.5 ft tall and over 300 pounds of raw muscle. His biceps were the size of her entire body! "The shipment is ready. All that is left is our payment."

"Of course," Neptune replied smoothly. He handed Bane a data pad. "As we agreed. The transfer will occur in approximately one hour. Guaranteed. And you can guarantee the results for Kobra-Venom?"

"Yes. A complete success. Your… employers will not be disappointed. It is everything we expected and more."

"This? This is a game changer," Neptune said, holding up a vial of the blue liquid.

"There's a sale going on!" Artemis hissed.

"Roger. Change of plans?"

"It's time we crashed this party."

Artemis reached into her belt and pulled out three smoke pellets. However, before she could throw them down, a pair of large cylinders soared in the air and exploded in mid-air, followed by eight other explosions.

Artemis hissed in annoyance as Kestrel once again screwed up her plan of attack. He used a 9-bang, a specialized non-lethal explosive device. The 9-bang, when detonated, produces an extremely bright flash of light, which temporarily overstimulates the retina, followed by a deafening bang, which temporarily overloads the eardrum. The result: temporarily disoriented and confused people.

She jumped down, landing on one of Bane's thugs and looked up, eyeing two men still slightly disoriented from the 9-bangs.

She rushed forward striking one man's face with her palm, pivoting, and using her other hand, elbowed the other man's face. Ducking at the hastily thrown punch, Artemis leapt up, kneeing one in the face. The other bear hugged her from behind. She brought her heel up, right into his crouch. As his grip loosened, she reached back, grabbed his head, and threw him over her… right into the other man.

Another man jabbed at her, his fist speeding towards her face. Her left hand pushed his fist away from her, and made him stumble forward. Using her momentum, she spun, and delivered a sidekick to his ribs. His painful exhalation and loud crack told Artemis that she had broken his ribs.

A shadow dropped next to her on her right. Kestrel.

"Status?" he asked.

"Great," Artemis smirked. "Three down."

"Only three? I'm on seven." Artemis gaped at him.

"What? I didn't know we were keeping count!" She snarled. Kestrel shrugged.

"You're slacking. Pick up the pace." With that, Kestrel leapt back into the fray. Artemis cursed under her breath, as she too rushed to meet the incoming thugs.

From the corner of her eye, Artemis watched as Kestrel fought. She realized now, why Talons were such feared adversaries. Kestrel flowed through his enemies. His movements were fluid and graceful, never stopping, always on the offensive.

The Talon caught the shaft of a passing bag, pivoting around and prying it from its wielder. While continuing forward, he struck a second man in the temple as he spun, not stopping once.

He broke the bat on one man's head, and impaled it into another's chest, and swiftly abandoned the weapon in the man's gasping chest. He whirled away from a machete and downed the wielder with a vicious kick to the side of the knee. The cry and crack of bone was all he needed to know the man was down.

Kestrel snarled as he redirected the blow into the face of a thug; heard the wet _splatter_ of blood on the edge of his mask. He ducked and body threw the man's limp body into another.

He kept running, towards the buyer, letting his instincts carry him. He stabbed into enemies he did not see, and sidestepped blades he was unsure were even coming. All the while, he drew closer to the buyer.

They were fleeing. Neptune's two guards brought their assault rifles to bear. Kestrel barely had time to duck behind cover before the air was filled with bullets. By the time he looked up… they were gone.

Kestrel began to move after them, until a massive figure blocked his way.

Bane was an imposing man. Even more so as he towered over Kestrel. Multiple tubes with neon green liquid in them fed into his shoulders and the back of his head.

Kestrel back-flipped out of the way, as Bane smashed his fist into the ground, creating a large crater.

"Nice try, Assassins!" Bane snarled. He lifted his fists up for another smash, when a pair of arrows streaked by Kestrel's head and embedded themselves in Bane's meaty forearm. He let out a roar of pain.

Artemis met up with Kestrel.

"Twenty-three," She said smugly.

"Twenty-five," Kestrel replied. Artemis' smirk turned into a frown.

"Ready to die, Assassins?" Bane asked. He cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"We can't take him down by ourselves. He's too big."

"Really? It's not as if he's seven feet tall and weighs more than both of us combined times two!" Artemis said sarcastically. Kestrel ignored her.

"I say we work together."

"Says the guy who barged on ahead without waiting for me."

"Artemis…" Artemis sighed.

"Fine. I guess I'll be the bigger man in this situation."

"So now you're a man?"

"I'm not going to bother gracing that statement with a comment."

"Oh, it was a figure of speech."

"A little slow on the uptake, are we?"

"As slow as you are at taking out bad guys." Both assassins leapt out of the way as another fist came flying towards them. Artemis turned to Kestrel.

"Alright, Bird Boy, let's do this." Kestrel raised an eyebrow from behind his mask.

"Bird boy? Really?"

"Take left, I got right," Artemis sniggered.

Kestrel and Artemis circled around Bane. While both were quicker and more agile than Bane, their attacks were largely ineffective against the steel-muscled drug lord.

Kestrel would dart in, distracting Bane, allowing Artemis to attack Bane's large, un-armored back. Her sword kept glancing off his muscles, and would barely scratch his tubing that fed Kobra-Venom into his body.

"You are nothing but mosquitoes to me!" Bane roared. He swung his meaty fist at Kestrel, who back flipped away.

Artemis darted in, and sliced at his exposed tendon on the back of his knee. Bane howled in pain, and sunk to one knee. She dove out of the way just in time as he back fisted the air that she once occupied.

As she looked up, she noticed how sluggish Bane's movements were.

_Almost got him_.

Kestrel and Artemis continued their relentless assault on Bane, who was quickly tiring, and succumbing to the multiple wounds they inflicted upon him.

Finally, Bane half-heartedly brought his fist down, trying to smash Artemis. However, Bane's fist remained on the ground, as he tried to steady himself.

_Now's my opportunity!_ Artemis clambered up Bane's arm. When she reached his shoulder, Artemis pushed off, and launched herself at Bane's face. Simultaneously, she pulled out one of her arrows, and stabbed it through the eye holes in Bane's face mask.

He howled in pain, clawing at the arrow sticking out of his eye.

Artemis leapt back and triumphantly grinned at Kestrel.

"Acceptable," Kestrel admitted. Artemis smirked. Coming from Kestrel, that was the closest thing she would get to a compliment. "But that still only counts as one. If memory serves, that means it's twenty-five to twenty-four in my favor."

"Screw you!"

A strained laugh interrupted the two.

"You… you assassins have failed," Bane chuckled weakly. "The buyer has gotten away. All because of your incompetence."

"Good. That means we have more time to decide your fate," Kestrel replied coldly.

"You mosquitoes are nothing. Just pawns in a game that is too big for you," Bane said condescendingly.

"I don't know. From where I'm standing, it looks like checkmate for you," Artemis said dryly.

"Do you know who we are, Bane?" Kestrel asked quietly.

"No. And I do not care."

"Wrong. Try again. You see," Kestrel said. "We are your judge, your jury, and your executioner. It is our job to rid the world of the damned and the wicked. Creatures like you Bane. There can be no salvation for you, Bane."

Bane weakly raised his face, and spat blood near Kestrel's boots.

"Do your worst," he sneered.

Kestrel slowly pulled off his white mask, tainted with the blood of his enemies. Cold blue eyes met Bane's, and a cruel smirk slowly appeared on Kestrel's face.

"With pleasure."

**Author's Note:**

**In this story, Neptune, will be the name given to Lawrence Crock. It fits nicely with Artemis' name. Neptune is the Roman God of War while Artemis is the Greek Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon. Neptune is a way cooler name than Sportsmaster. Seriously… what mercenary would gain any respect with a name like Sportsmaster. Ooh… you're a master of sports. Scary.**

**So basically, this concludes what you could call the "Prologue" of the story. Now, we get into the main plot… **

**And to answer one viewer's question: There is a very high chance that our two assassins will encounter some variation of the Team. **

**Oh and yes… since Kestrel and Artemis are assassins they WILL be killing other people. Sorry if that offends anyone. If you guys want, I can change it to 'M'. But it won't be like the cartoons where there is no death. It defeats the purpose of being an assassin if you leave your targets alive.**


	4. Settling In

Disclaimer: _Young Justice_ belongs to Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti. I am simply taking what they give and twisting it for my own amusement.

Thanks to those of you who reviewed! I really appreciate it and read them all. Multiple times.

IMPORTANT NOTE: **NEPTUNE IS THE ROMAN GOD OF THE SEA. I am SO sorry for the error. It was sloppy, ignorant, and lazy of me. See what happens when I take things by word of mouth? Anyway, thanks to all of you who took the time to correct me. Those kinds of errors are like blue moons: they rarely happen. **

**Several things to address: in Batman: All Star, the Grayson's are gunned down at the end of their act. I used this version of their deaths, as it best sets up several important points in my plot later on.**

**Artemis, in this story, will be an assassin who's primary weapon is a katana (think of Talia's guards/ assassins from Batman: Arkham City) and secondary is a bow and arrow. However, both Kestrel and Artemis can and will use other conventional weapons depending on their situation. I like the idea of them using blades and guns.**

**Chapter 4: Settling In**

**22 June, 2013**

**Gotham Heights, Gotham City**

**1230 Hours**

"Whoa." Artemis opened the door to their new base of operations.

She turned and glared at Kestrel, who appeared unfazed. Her scowl reflected back at her from the lenses of his sunglasses.

"You said we were going to an apartment! Not a damn Penthouse!" Artemis accused. Kestrel shrugged.

"Unless I am mistaken, we are in an apartment. Therefore we are based at an apartment."

"There's a difference!" Artemis insisted.

"There is," Kestrel agreed. "This apartment is situated at the top of the building, while your preconception of an apartment is in the lower levels."

"Whatever." Artemis walked further into the penthouse, admiring the architecture. The designers spared no expense in the creation of this.

Large glass windows the size of an entire wall overlooked the midtown skyline. Below, at the foot of the building is the whole geometry of Gotham Central Park. The windows were made to be as high and wide as they could be, with the ceiling being at least fifteen feet high.

Each section of the penthouse was furnished with unique materials. For the entrance gallery: marble floors and parchment panels framed in mahogany. For the library: Brazilian rosewood. For the dining room: Venetian stucco. For the master bedroom: reeded plasted. For the kitchen: Jaguar-green lacquer, bamboo, and textured glass. For the interiors of the fireplaces: long, narrow 19th-century bricks imported from France

"So, not that I'm complaining or anything, but how come we get this all to ourselves?" Artemis asked. Kestrel was situated in the main living room, unpacking various weapons and gear.

"The Court of Owls rewards those that succeed," Kestrel said simply.

"But this has to cost like… millions of dollars! Millions!"

"The Court has operated in Gotham for centuries. It has accumulated a vast amount of land and property. Almost 40% of all infrastructure and property in Gotham City is owned by a member of the Court, and an additional 20% is indirectly associated to them."

"But still…. Isn't this a bit… much?"

"_Extremum Medium Justificatis,"_ Kestrel said.

"Justifying the means with the ends?" Kestrel nodded.

"Yes. There is no limit to the resources afforded to those who work with or for the Court. They say "do it", and they expect it to be done. As long as the contract is accomplished. The Court does not bother itself by investigating the means in which the contract was accomplished.

"That's awesome," Artemis said enviously. "How come we don't do this?"

"This also ties into our lethality. I am the best, so I get the best." Kestrel said matter-of-factly.

"You mean 'we' are the best, right?" Kestrel glanced at her.

"Yes. You can have the coat tails of my victory."

"I- coat tails of your victory!" Artemis spluttered.

"That was a joke," Kestrel said, deadpanned. Artemis deflated.

"Oh." She paused. "Your jokes suck."

Kestrel ignored her. He pulled out a five-inch dagger identical to his.

"What?" Artemis asked, eyeing the dagger warily.

"It's yours."

"That? That's not very impressive," Artemis said skeptically.

"So is your proficiency in close quarters combat."

"The same could be said about your social grace… or lack thereof," Artemis shot back.

"You wield large, obtrusive weapons," Kestrel sighed. "You use a katana and a bow and arrow."

"Yeah? Have you seen me with them?"

"Yes. It is acceptable. However, what happens if we need to go in our civilians? No guns? What will you do then? This blade is easily concealed and can be taken anywhere. Its sheath masks its metal, allowing it to pass undetected through metal detectors."

Artemis crossed her arms.

"Take it, please?"

"Fine," Artemis grumbled. She snatched the dagger out of his hand.

"You're welcome." Artemis opened her mouth to retort, when a ringtone echoed in the apartment. Both stopped. That specific tone was used for "work" related calls.

"I'll get it," Both said simultaneously. Both stopped. Then Artemis lunged for the phone.

"Ha!" She crowed triumphantly. Kestrel rolled his eyes.

"I'll meet you downstairs."

**22 June, 2013**

**Gotham Heights, Gotham City**

**1245 Hours**

The pair of assassins walked silently down the semi-crowded sidewalk. Kestrel was in his usual skinny jeans and hoodie-jacket attire, and Artemis in simple jeans, and brown jacket over a white v-neck.

As Artemis looked to her left at her companion, she smirked.

"Y'know, I never realized how… short you are," Artemis said casually. Kestrel stiffened slightly and tilted his head to look at her.

"I haven't reached puberty yet," he replied stiffly. Artemis snorted.

"Oooh, I think I've found your weakness," Artemis teased. She made a show of gauging their heights. "I think I might be two to four inches taller than you."

"You are three," Kestrel corrected. "You are 66 inches tall. I am 63 inches tall."

"That's pretty creepy how you know so much about me…" Artemis murmured.

"Never go into a situation without knowing as much as you can," Kestrel advised.

"Yeah? I can't find anything about you though!"

"I am a ghost. A forgotten son," Kestrel said softly. "We do not exist. I am a Talon. Nothing more. Our identities from before our Awakening are lost. Hence the name, 'Forgotten Sons and Daughters'."

Artemis sensed that she stumbled on a topic that Kestrel was not comfortable with and wisely backed off. The pair lapsed into an awkward silence.

"I apologize if I made this… awkward," Kestrel finally said.

"No, no. It's fine. The conversation is forgotten," Artemis assured. "Though, don't think that I'll stop making fun of your height, short stuff."

Kestrel's lips turned up ever so slightly.

"And I your incompetence."

As they walked, Kestrel noticed how they were walking deeper and deeper into a "nicer" part of Gotham.

"Who's our target?"

"William Kane. Wealthy, well-connected, and current CEO and owner of the multi-billion dollar conglomerate, Kane Industries."

"Hmm, I thought Kane had strong ties to the Court…" Kestrel murmured pensively.

"Apparently he does, and to the League of Shadows as well. We're here to protect him." Kestrel raised an eyebrow. "Word is that our shadow group has already sent out a hit on him and his family. Other teams will take care of his family. We're taking care of him."

"Target description?"

"Wealthy. Snobbish," Artemis said deadpanned.

"Really. Astounding observation skills," Kestrel said sarcastically.

"He'll be heading out of Kane Industries' Headquarters. I'll secure Kane. You keep on the lookout for our would-be assassin."

Kane Industries' Headquarters was situated along Broad Street, the commercial hub of Gotham. Hundreds of high-end brand name stores were situated along the mile and a half long road. It was also the busiest.

Kestrel nodded once, before disappearing into the crowd. Artemis continued on her path, subtly pushing past people, and keeping an eye open for their target. She checked her watch. 1:00.

_He should be out soon._

Artemis walked over to a hotdog stand near the building and purchased herself a magazine. She "read" the tabloid, skimming through the rumours and gossip that frankly held no interest to her. Lots of men in expensive suits were strolling in an out of the building. Today, though, he had a unique tie on: blue with white stripes.

_Finally_. Artemis put down the magazine down. Right when he passed an alley, a pair of arms snaked around his neck and pulled him into the confined alley.

"Mr. Kane, I need you to be quiet!" Artemis hissed. Her hand covered his mouth, while her other wrist constricted his throat. "You are in danger."

A second later, another man cautiously came by, evidently looking for something. As his coat opened up, she saw the dull gray of a firearm. He turned, looked down at the fallen suitcase. Artemis cursed. The man drew his gun and slowly entered the alley.

_Where are you, Kestrel?_ Artemis thought.

"Don't move, if you want to live," Artemis whispered to Kane. He nodded frantically, eyes wide with fear.

From behind the large dumpster, Artemis pressed Kane as far into the old brick wall as he could. She covered most of his body with her own, leaner frame.

The tip of a suppressor peaked over the edge. Artemis waited until the entire firearm was in her view as well as the front half of the other assassin in question before she decided to act.

Artemis shot out from her hiding place, and full on tackled the man into the other side of the alleyway wall. The man let out a surprised 'Oof' as she drove her elbow into his gut, while her other hand latched on to the barrel of the gun. The man recovered surprisingly quick and head-butted her. Her world exploded in stars; it felt like someone swung a hammer at her head, but she still kept hold of the gun.

Both struggled for dominance over the other. While the man had strength and size over Artemis, Artemis had the element of surprise and superior positioning. Artemis slammed the man's hand into the brick wall. He responded with a shoulder to her face, which flipped them around.

She winced as her back slammed into the wall, the man snarling at her. His forearm pressed into her throat, while the gun was inching closer and closer to her face.

A whisper-like cough emitted from the gun, as the man squeezed the trigger. Pieces of brick rained down upon both of them.

Artemis brought her knee up… right into the man's crouch. He exhaled sharply as Artemis' knee ruined the man's future at having children. His grip slackened on her, and he doubled over.

Artemis took the opportunity to wrap her arm around the man's neck, so that his head was tucked under her armpit. With all her strength, she backed up into the wall.

A loud crack and a moan were heard.

Artemis took a step forward, and was about to do it again, when the man's right arm snaked around her waist. His left hand cupped her left knee. Artemis' world spun as the man took her down, by clamping down on her knee and pushing her entire body onto the dirty concrete.

Her legs instinctively tucked in, with one foot planted firmly on his right shoulder, and the other on the crook of his left elbow. The man struggled against her grip as he tried to send several punches her way. Her upper back was braced against the wall. The bricks dug painfully into her lower back.

Her legs buckled and her breath was coming in gasps. She managed to get in a few punches, causing the man's nose and mouth to start bleeding.

Artemis was dimly aware of something digging into her side. She glanced down, and saw an ornate handle with an owl design. Kestrel's knife! She punched the man with her left hand, while her right deftly unsheathed the dagger. _Thank you Kestrel!_

In one clean motion, Artemis swiped the blade across his neck. Hot blood _poured _out of the long gash along his throat and onto her jeans and white v-neck, staining them dark crimson. He went limp, and slumped on top of her, getting even more blood on her. He gurgled something, before going slack.

Artemis pushed the guy off of her, taking in deep, shuddering breaths. As she looked up, she saw the back of Kane as he fled from the alley. She cursed as she slowly got up, her body aching all over.

Staggering slightly, she sprinted out of the alleyway after her target. A sea of people shuffled along the sidewalk. Artemis impatiently pushed past people, trying to catch up to Kane. She could see him. He was roughly 15 meters ahead of her, but it may as well have been 30 with all the civilians getting in her way.

Her legs felt like lead, and her muscles screamed each step she took. There was no way she was going to catch this guy.

Kane veered left into another alley, throwing trash bins, boxes, and other obstacles in her way. Artemis expertly avoided them. She leapt, slid, and rolled through the obstacles like those parkour artists.

She felt herself slowing down. He was almost at the end of the alley. If he reached the other end, he was as good as gone.

An owl screeched. A shadow flitted over her.

She looked up just in time to see Kestrel leap from a fire-escape. Like a predator descending upon its prey, Kestrel gracefully cut through the air… and landed square on Kane's shoulders. He went down with a loud _thud_… and didn't move.

Kestrel slowly stood up and glanced at her.

"You're a mess."

"Gee, ya think?" Artemis growled. Her hair was loose and dirty, and her entire front was stained with blood. She had a crazed expression in her eyes – one that would make any sane person back away and flee.

"What happened to you?" He asked curiously.

"I just tangoed with some assassin, and a good one at that. Where the hell were you! You were supposed to take care of him!" Artemis screeched.

"I was supposed to 'keep a lookout for our would-be assassins," Kestrel corrected. "And I did. I successfully reduced the threat. Your friend had two others as back-up. Taking them down took longer than expected. They were skilled."

"Besides," Kestrel added. "In the end, you only took out one guy. I took out two… and I captured Kane. You can't complain. I did all the heavy lifting."

"What! I had to protect his ass! There is no way in hell… he counts as mine!"Artemis shrieked.

"Who took him down?"

"Only after I funneled him here!"

"So that is what we're calling it these days?"

"Yes," Artemis grit her teeth.

"From my perspective, it looked like Mr. Kane, a forty-five year old, out of shape business man, was successfully escaping from you."

"Yeah? Well your perspective is skewed."

"It is," Kestrel agreed. "Come on, we need to deliver our package."

"Kane still counts as mine though!" Artemis insisted stubbornly.

"Whatever you say."

**22 June, 2013**

**Gotham Heights, Gotham City**

**1400 Hours**

Artemis sighed as she stepped out of the shower. It took a little over twenty minutes just to cleanse herself of all the muck, grime and blood. Of course, she had a nice purple bruise on her cheek, a bruised neck, and a slightly sore back, but all in all, she was fine. Now, she was refreshed, and ready to go.

Kestrel was seated in front of a coffee table overlooking the city. A disassembled handgun lay across the wood. A cleaning kit and lubricant were also neatly arranged.

He deftly assembled the firearm, before setting it aside, and grabbing another piece of equipment.

"Can I help you?" Kestrel asked, drawing Artemis out of her reverie.

"Huh?"

"You were staring."

"Yeah… I was marveling at how someone became as ugly and short as you are."

"That's something that we both have in common. Your encounter with that assassin actually improved your facial appearance."

Artemis grinned and flopped onto the leather couch and turned on their flat screen television, inanely flipping through the channels.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing… and nothing," Artemis groaned. None of her favorite shows were on at 2pm. Not even any re-runs or anything.

"Oh, by the way… we have another target," Kestrel randomly called out.

"Oh, really," Artemis asked interestedly. "Who is it?"

"Our next target is Dinah Lance, a.k.a. Black Canary."

**Author's Note:**

**Just so you guys know… The Court of Owls and the League of Shadows are not good and not evil. They're equal opportunists. So don't be shocked if they do some evil things. After all, the League of Shadows and Court of Owls are always portrayed as bad in the comics and cartoons. In this story they're not good, not bad, but more bad than good. Remember, both are pushing for their own agenda.**


	5. Of Meetings and Plans

Disclaimer: _Young Justice_ belongs to Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti. I am simply taking what they give and twisting it for my own amusement.

Chapter 5: Of Meetings and Plans

22 June, 2013

Gotham Docks, Gotham City

2030 Hours

A young gang member stepped out of a warehouse, puffing happily on his cigarette. He leaned on the splintered wood, enjoying his smoke. His gaze lazily swept through the deserted docks.

"Those things will put you in the grave."

The gangster cursed, fumbling on his cigarette, before reaching for his gun. Before his cigarette had even fallen to the mucky docks, and his hand reached for his Glock, he felt a cold blade pressed against his neck.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the cold voice said again. The gangster's hands froze, and slowly rose in a symbol of surrender. The blade pressed harder against his neck, drawing a small line of blood.

"Now –"

"Take us to your leader!" Another voice whispered dramatically, a woman's this time. The figure behind him paused.

"Really?"

"What?"

"Be quiet before you destroy our reputation."

"You're no fun."

"Hey, if you guys don't mind…" the gangster began timidly.

"Shut up," both figures said in unison. His mouth snapped shut.

"Open the door," the male said. "We need to have a chat with your boss."

The gangster slowly opened the steel door leading to the warehouse.

"He's right inside."

"Much obliged." The gangster found his face speeding towards the wood, before the world disappeared into darkness.

The inside of the warehouse was full of activity. Around 20 men were busy packing and moving crates full of narcotics. Kestrel stepped forward, wearing his civilian attire – tinted sunglasses, jeans, and hoodie-jacket pairing –Artemis right behind him.

"Red Hood." Kestrel called out. The man in question spun around and stared at the boy.

"You!" He accused.

"Me." Red Hood, or Jason Todd, was the leader of the fastest growing gang, The Outlaws. At only 19, Todd had managed to work his way up, and mastermind an efficient and fool-proof monopoly on the drug trade in Gotham. Todd was easily recognized with a strip of white hair and his dual pistol holsters.

Over twenty men were now aiming their automatic machine guns at the duo.

Jason took a deep breath. Then paused, as a thought struck him. "How'd you find me?"

"Please," Kestrel snorted. "I'm me."

"Ah," Jason replied, nodding his head solemnly. "That explains it. So what can I do for the infamous criminal underworld hitman?"

"Assassin," Kestrel corrected. "I'm a professional." Jason waved his hand dismissively.

"Semantics. What do you want?"

"I'd like to think that were both professionals that don't let things get personal," Kestrel said slowly.

"Personal? You leveled an entire block just to take out one of my lieutenants!"

"How was I supposed to know that you guys stored your explosives in that building?" Kestrel asked.

"Because you always know!" Jason exploded. He sighed, and asked wearily, "What do you want?"

"I have a very lucrative offer that I am sure you cannot refuse."

"Okay, let's… and who is this _beauty_?" Jason purred as his sharp blue eyes found Artemis. He leered at her, his eyes tracing her entire figure.

"I'm Artemis," Artemis said, holding out her hand to shake. Jason grabbed it and kissed it. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

"A pleasure." Artemis raised one of her eyebrows.

"A gangster with manners. That's new."

"Oh, babe, that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Really," Artemis said skeptically. Jason grinned roguishly.

"Beautiful, I've got money, lots of it. I've got property. Hell, I've even got the good looks and personality to complete the deal."

"Wow and modest too!"

"Only when I'm not in the presence of such a lovely lady." Despite herself, Artemis felt her cheeks heat up. She hoped Jason didn't notice. He did. He winked at her and beckoned them forward.

"Can we discuss this somewhere private?" Kestrel interjected.

"This way." She glanced at Kestrel. He seemed to be a bit colder and more uptight than usual. _It must be because of the gangs._ She thought. They were, after all, surrounded by men armed with machine guns.

Artemis and Kestrel followed Jason down a series of halls and corridors.

"Quite an operation you have going here," Kestrel noted. Jason nodded.

"Yup. This is one of eight main packaging and distributing points dispersed throughout Gotham. Each of my people only knows the location of the warehouse they're working at. Y'know, security and all that," Jason replied proudly.

"Compartmentalization. Smart."

"This organization is my life," Jason replied simply.

Finally, Jason opened the door, revealing a luxury room. Expensive leather seats and couches and high end furniture were placed around a tastefully renovated room. This room was obviously where less-than-savory deals were made.

"Take a seat. Relax. Refreshments are at the mini bar. Feel free to take what you want," Jason announced. Two guards moved to either side of the door. Jason casually flung himself onto a couch, while Kestrel and Artemis carefully sat down across from him. While Artemis laid back into the comfy couch, Kestrel maintained his ramrod, stiff posture.

"Business now," Jason said, before turning to wink at Artemis. "…Pleasure later."

"My employers have taken notice of your organization, and would like to… further your goals," Kestrel finally said.

"How would you do that?" Jason asked skeptically. "We possess and distribute almost 42% of all narcotics in Gotham. If my calculations are correct, we should gain an additional 1.3% by the end of this year." He cracked open a can of beer and took a long gulp.

"What if I could tell you, that we could get The Outlaws up to 60% total control?" Jason choked on his beer.

"Say what?"

"Did I stutter?" Kestrel asked coldly.

"Nope," Jason replied cheerfully. "I was just surprised."

Kestrel nodded to Artemis.

Artemis dug into her messenger bag and pulled out a file folder. She slid it over to Jason. He grabbed it and flipped open the file, skimming through it. The file contained a dossier of Carmine Falcone, The Outlaw's biggest competitor and only other threat to the growing gang. The Falcone gang controlled the other 50% of the drug trade.

After a few moments of silence, Jason put the file down and grinned.

"Well… I have got to say, you people? You have balls."

"I don't, he does," Artemis supplied helpfully. Jason grinned at her.

"I might need to verify that," Jason said suggestively.

"In your dreams."

"Oh, you will be in them." Jason assured her. He turned back to Kestrel. "This is really gonna fuck up my mojo, and planning, not to mention being a logistical nightmare. I mean, all the goods, routes, and people that I am going to have to rearrange..."

"… will all be worth it, especially for the profit you will make, and the territory you will gain," Artemis smoothly interjected.

"I don't have a doubt that you can cap this bastard, but what I really want to know is what you guys want."

"We want your support." Jason's blue eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

"That's it?" Kestrel nodded. "I'm making a deal with the devil, and all you want is my support."

"Offer something in return," Kestrel stated.

"Take something back." Jason finished. Jason thought about it for a second.

"Short term, and long term, this relationship will be beneficial for both parties," Kestrel added. Jason closed his eyes and leaned back. After a few minutes, he finally leaned forward.

"Deal." Jason held out his hand to Kestrel's. As Kestrel grasped it, he was suddenly pulled very close to Jason.

"I don't think that I really had a choice in the matter," Jason hissed menacingly. Kestrel shrugged. "Don't think that I don't know what's going on. I may be young, but I ain't stupid."

"You're a smart man," Kestrel agreed. "My employers know that. They simply see an opportunity. A mutual opportunity." Jason pulled away, his previous cheerfulness restored. Of course, Kestrel could see that it didn't reach his eyes.

"You better be good on your word, then. My support doesn't come easily."

"Yes. And, as a sign of good will, we also present this gift to you." Kestrel shrugged off his own backpack, and slid it over to Jason. His eyes widened as he looked inside.

"Half a million dollars," Kestrel confirmed.

"Well then," Jason said, his steely eyes softening slightly, ""To a successful relationship, then, Mr. Kestrel."

He once again kissed Artemis' hand and slipped her a piece of paper.

"Gimme a call, when you're free, babe."

"Not on your life." Jason's grin widened. His eyes traced her bottom as she sauntered out after Kestrel. He turned to one of the guards.

"Benny?"

"Yeah boss?"

"I think I'm in love."

[]

"I think I'm in love!" Artemis declared, as she stepped into their penthouse suite. She glanced back at the piece of paper with messily scrawled letters.

"You think you've fallen in love with a murdering, raping, stealing, cutthroat crime boss?" Artemis faltered.

"Uh, maybe?"

"Good going, Romeo," Kestrel said. "Just remember what happens to Romeo and Juliet in the end."

Artemis stared aghast at him.

"What?"

"Do you have to infect everything with your cynical, pessimistic, and twisted outlook in life?" Artemis groaned.

"It's realistic," Kestrel corrected.

"Ugh, you're only like 14," Artemis groused. "You couldn't have let me float off into my own fantasies, could you?"

"As my partner, it is only fair that I watch your back," Kestrel reminded.

"More like stab my back," Artemis muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" Artemis asked innocently.

"You said something I couldn't quite hear."

"Nothing!" Kestrel looked at Artemis suspiciously for a second, before shrugging.

"So, not that I'm complaining or anything, but why are we teaming up with the Outlaws?" Artemis wondered.

"They're our key to drawing out Black Canary," Kestrel said. "BC's been laying low lately, and has gone underground."

"They'll be our rabbit and scapegoat?" Artemis guessed. Kestrel nodded.

"Canary will definitely notice and take action against the Outlaws. Once she reveals herself, that's when we'll strike…"

"… and it'll be the perfect cover for explaining her death, and drawing the attention elsewhere," Artemis finished.

"Yes. Our main objective, Black Canary, will be terminated, definitely and permanently, and the Outlaws will take the heat from local authorities, other crime syndicates, and any retaliatory action taken by other heroes."

"The perfect assassination," Artemis concluded.

"It still hinges on the Outlaws," Kestrel reminded her.

"Oh, right. Falcone. So we're gonna gank this bastard?" Artemis asked.

"_You're_ going to 'gank this bastard'," Kestrel corrected. When no comment came, he glanced at the woman beside him and saw her staring at him in shock. "What?"

"I'm going solo on Falcone's assassination?" Artemis whispered almost reverently.

"Yes. I am confident in your abilities to handle him appropriately. Besides… I have other important things to attend to."

She supposed that was the closest thing she was going to get to a compliment, and then looked at Kestrel strangely.

"What?"

"You know, this plan is like a reflection of your inner self."

"How so?" Kestrel asked curiously.

"It's twisted and sick, relying on the deceit and manipulation of others in order for it to succeed."

"I prefer simple, well-planned, and effective."

"It's sadistic and twisted," Artemis said flatly.

"We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses," Kestrel quoted.

"You are the last person to be quoting _Honest_ Abe!" Artemis accused. She paused. "And I presume your plan is the rose?"

"Of course. It is a beautiful masterpiece of death and destruction. Full of screams of pain and misery, and chalk full of blood and gore," Kestrel said, a sadistic grin slowly spreading across his face. He began to chuckle, which slowly morphed into an outright deranged cackle. Artemis recoiled in horror.

"You're sick." Kestrel's sadistic grin disappeared, and his usual cold features soon took over.

"That was a joke."

[]

**Author's Note:**

**Hey all! Sorry for the late update. Had major writer's block. But we're all good now!**

**Thanks for the amazing feedback! Special thanks to gamecowboy, who always reviews and follows my other stories. Much appreciated! **

**Next chapter will feature more action and fighting.**

**Another thing: **

**Artemis is a good fighter – almost on par with Kestrel. However, when she fought the assassins, she was evenly matched. Think about it: a developing teen probably around 5'6'' 135 lbs, taking on a fully grown 5'8'', 180lb man with just as much training and skill as her. Not only that, but she doesn't have her weapons, and the element of surprise. **


End file.
